This Old Wound
by WP
Summary: It's an alternative beginning to S7, I guess. It's mainly Willow and what's happened and how she's trying to cope. give it a try.


A/N: Just a little Alternative S7/Post S6. Song is 'This Old Wound' by Dashboard Confessional. Please leave a review.  
  
This Old Wound  
  
-I've been bleeding well  
  
From this old wound  
  
Cleaning it with salt,  
  
So it will still feel new  
  
Sometimes eyes turn black,   
  
And sometimes scars are tracks   
  
But every time that you're gone  
  
I wish that you'd come back-  
  
The Scooby gang had been in England for a month now. They had all came out when Giles had insisted that the only way to rehabilitate Willow was to take her to the coven.   
  
It was a time of grieving and they were not splitting up or letting Willow think they had sent her away, left her with no one.   
  
Willow had taken well to her studies, truely applied herself to ensure she wouldn't be taken over by the dark magicks.  
  
But, on a personal level, she was completely disconnected. She hadn't grieved the loss of her girlfriend and soulmate who was brutally killed right in front of her.   
  
Buffy, Xander, Dawn and even Giles had been waiting for their red headed friend to come to them, seeking clarity or just a shoulder to cry on.   
  
It was worrying them all, the longer it went on, the more they missed their WIllow. She wasn't truely alive, simply going through the motions and blocking everything out.  
  
Just like every other night, Willow was in her small, bare room alone.   
  
It was always the same, she'd be alone at night, when her lessons were finished and all her studying done, she'd be alone with her mind.   
  
She held a picture of Tara in her hands. When she saw that face, those eyes, her heatbroke all over again, another part of her died. Just like that fateful day she watched her soulmate get shot through the heart.  
  
She took the next picture in her hands. It was Tara and herself, one Dawn had caught when they weren't aware. They were oth so happy, so alive. No black eyes or broken hearts, no jaded souls or death.   
  
Willow wept for those days.   
  
  
  
-And everyone watched me waste myself   
  
And everyone cheered at last  
  
And all of them found it comforting  
  
Its better it's me then them.-  
  
The first week after Tara's death and her evil rampage had been a continuous, painful blur. Willow had just lay in the same spot, in the same position Xander had put her in when he brought her home. Though it wasn't home, Home was where Tara was.   
  
She wasn't even in her own bedroom, She was in Buffy's. They probably thought it'd make things easier but she longed for her lovers scent, her clothes scattered around the room, the blood stain on the carpet. It was strange and morbid and would probably cause her more pain than she thought possible but just to be in the place she lost her soulmate seemed to offer some comfort, like she would be closer to her somehow.   
  
Buffy and Xander didn't seem to acknowledge her need to be close to her lost love, they thought they were protecting her from yet more heartache. They stood gaurd every second, never giving her a chance to just end it all. Not that she had the energy at first. She didn't see anything but her lovers death, didn't feel anything but her warm, sticky blood, didn't hear anything but that last phrase, didn't smell anything but death.  
  
Giles had taken things surprisingly. They had all thought he'd been intent on punishing Willow, or at least been angry with her actions but instead he gave them the 'give her a break' talk. He'd spent hours just talking to Willow, mainly about Jenny but the others would never know that.   
  
At first he thought she didn't hear him or was ignoring him but their was a tell tale sign, she'd show more life, blink more regularly, breath differently, cry less, sob more, eventually she'd even muttered phrases like, 'I'm Sorry' and 'I miss her'. These small lapses in catatonia had given Giles some reassurance that Willow could be helped but she had to be willing.   
  
As the grief became slightly less suffocating, enough for the red head to actually take in her surroundings and the condition of her friends.   
  
Xander was still recovering from the wounds she had inflicted on him. He still came in, trying to joke with her. He even tried the serious pleading talks. It broke his heart to see Willow so unresponsive and broken. She was just a body, their was no life or feeling or anything left. But he wouldn't give up, ever.   
  
Willow had been his best friend since he was 5, she was always there, every memory he held contained Willow, every major event in either of there life's was fully shared. He couldn't just give up on her, she needed time and he'd give her however long it took.  
  
Buffy was trying to handle everything. She had to take care of everything to do with Tara's funeral and the police investigation.   
  
She found it hard to be near Willow at first. She was completely unnerved at how Willow had went from this super evil witch to an unresponsive form, wasting away on her bed. It hurt her, she wanted her best friend to just look at her and give her some hope that it'd be ok.   
  
She tried to be there as much as possible for the broken girl, tried to understand how it was to truly lose your soulmate. She couldn't. Some things were just too painful to imagine. Instead she'd talk, but mostly she'd just sit in silence with her friend, hold her while she constantly cried, tried to sooth her.   
  
Dawn, she had only seen a couple of times, normally when she sneaked in and was then ushered out by one of the others. She'd spoke to Willow with a personal touch the others hadn't. She spoke about Tara and how much she missed her. Sure, she didn't miss her like Willow did but to the young Summers, Tara was a best friend and big sister.   
  
It was Dawn's first little trip to see Willow that made her realise she wasn't the only person hurting over Tara's death. Her girlfriend touched everyone around her, she was that kind of a caring person. It made her face up to the fact that she couldn't lie in that bed and rot, no matter how much she wanted to. The other's needed for her to ask for help, to show some sign of wanting to live. It still took her awhile to force the plea out.   
  
When she did she felt like a liar, she didn't want anything but to lie with her memories and pain until she just expired. But when the words left her mouth in a foreign voice she felt a twang somewhere deep inside. She did want help, she wanted to stop feeling the way she did. She remembered the days she was happy and content. The days before her Tara died and she turned into a hideous, souless monster.   
  
-I think I'm doing well from what they say  
  
They've taken both my belt and shoelaces away  
  
Well I believe in luck  
  
I think I do  
  
Well I believe for sure  
  
If ever I saw you-  
  
England was no different to Willow than Sunnydale. Neither was home. Neither was beautiful or whole or bright. When Tara died, light became dark, beauty perished and nothing was right.   
  
When they had all got to the Coven in Devon, Willow was still pretty unresponsive. She didn't talk, not unless she was spoken to. She was never rude to any of the coven but she wasn't overly friendly, not at all personal. They tried to talk to her about her lovers death. Mostly, she listenned until her heart couldn't bare it anymore then excused herself. She'd hide away in her bare room until her next lesson.   
  
Mealtimes were anything but fun. She ate but only enough to stop her friends worrying about how to feed her or taking her to a doctor. She didn't want to cause them that much trouble.   
  
To the scoobies and the coven the simple act of eating and paying atention in her lessons was good. It was a step towards being better. It was a step towards getting over it. But she never would. She'd do as she was asked but she'd never carry anything out with feeling.   
  
She didn't like emotions anymore, she wished to never feel any again, though the bad ones wouldn't leave her alone. Despair was about all she felt, just a huge black hole of despair engulfing her.   
  
She didn't feel anything but injustice and pain when she saw Tara. She was so used to being indescribably happy and content when she saw the blonde's beautiful face infront of her. Her eyes, her smile, it all made her happy but now all she could do was cry when she saw her.   
  
-I've been fanning flames from these old coals  
  
Feeding them with tender  
  
And hoping they will grow   
  
And I've been savoring  
  
What I can't hold  
  
A blind belief in goodness  
  
That doesn't seem to show-  
  
Willow opened up her suitcase. Inside were her memories, her only ties to her soulmate.   
  
When told to pack, she had taken only a few outfits for herself, the rest of her suitcase was packed with Tara's clothes, photo's, books, candles and the like.   
  
She careully lifted out one of the shirts she loved Tara in the most and la down on her single bed. She brought the shirt to her face and breathed in her her lovers scent. It only made her despair and grieving grow. She welcomed it though. Her sadness, her depression was now what she wanted to feel. She didn't deserve to not feel bad, she'd lost the person she was going to spend eternity with, she'd killed and she'd let her friends down, tried to hurt them.   
  
Her ony choice now was to let them think they had helped her. They'd believe it bcause no one wants to believe that their best friend, a member of their family, has essentially died inside, was no longer the same person but a hollow shell of who they were.  
  
As salty tears began to fall from the red heads eyes she quickly pulled the shirt down and hugged it to her chest, she couldn't risk her tears leaking onto it, tainting Tara's pure scent.   
  
Lying there with Tara's shirt she craved more. She needed the solid form of her Goddess. But she would never have her so she compromised. Grabbing a pillow she gently pulled the shirt over it before hugging it tightly, praying for some kind of comfort.   
  
She got none.  
  
She was alone and tired and grieving, endlessly grieving.   
  
She thought back to when she was younger, before she met Buffy and became aware of the real world. he always elieved there was something more, she may have been a scientifically thinking young girl but she did believe in higher and lower powers. That's what drove her to try and be a good, productive human being.   
  
She was always trrified of going to hell, of being evil or just not being good enough for heaven. It was a lame way of thinking, completely blunt and unproved but it's what she believed and it was her own conscience that made such restrictions.   
  
So much for that unwritten code she tried to live by. Shreal as damed now, killing had just signed her to hell and that's where people like her belonged.   
  
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts of damnaton. Buffy waked in, stopping when she saw her best friend, curled up on her small bed with the pillow. She closed the door and perched on the edge of the bed. "Do you want some food?" She asked softly already knowing the answer.  
  
Willow shook her head. She didn't care about eating, she didn't care she had tear stains down her cheeks, she didn't care that Buffy could see the Tara pillow she had constructed, she just wanted to be at one with her pain.   
  
Buffy put a hand on the red heads shoulder and sighed, "Will." She said sadly, unable of think how to continue or even if she could.   
  
Willow just melted further into the pillow she was holding close. "Just go. You don't have to try." She told the blonde dejectedly.  
  
Buffy was visably hurt. Willow thought they were just trying for the sake of it? That it wasn't for their friends health they had done all this? She was so wrong. They were all trying to help her anyway they knew how, granted they may not be doing great but they were trying and not for their own conscience but for the life of their best friend.   
  
Buffy decided it was time to just let the words flow. She turned Willow's face, forcing her to make eye contact. "Do you know how much you've been there for me over the past 7 years? Since the day I met you, you've been nothing but caring. You've been there with me through it, even if I just wanted to wallow in self pity, you never let me. Now it's my turn." She told her.   
  
Green eyes just stared at her.   
  
Willow had her resolve face on and Buffy knew just how to react. So, she sat there, looking into the broken eyes of her best friend, waiting.   
  
When the time came she was all too happy. She'd longed for this since they'd got there. As soon as Willow gave in and began to sob, Buffy made the smooth transaction to pull Willow into her arms. It was times like these she was thankful for slayer strength.  
  
In seconds Willow was safely in her embrace and Buffy stayed with her through the never ending weeping. She tried to sooth her cries but there was no stopping the witch now she had let go.  
  
Buffy's own tears began to fall down her cheeks. The reality of their loss hitting her. Tara was gone, forever, and so was Willow.   
  
-But I've been bleeding well  
  
From this old wound  
  
Cleaning it with salt,  
  
So it will still feel new-  
  
A vicious circle. Her life was just a vicious circle, never ending, eternally doomed.  
  
She once again sat in her bare, quiet little room with a picture of her fallen love tight in her grasp.   
  
It all started again. Those eyes were the starting line and there was no finish line. But that didn't matter anymore. Willow was lost in that picture, in her overwhelming emotions.   
  
She'd finally cut loose the other night when Buffy held her while she cried but the second she was alone, the second she was alone in her sobbing, it all went back to the way it was and had been for a while now. Solitary, Sad and Spiralling towards her end and she begged it came fast. 


End file.
